


Trifecta

by monochromatic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1535309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monochromatic/pseuds/monochromatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's Dave and there's Bro and there's Dirk stuck between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trifecta

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe I forgot to post this here jfc.

You roll onto your back and you feel broken. Literally broken. Your bones feel heavy, elephantine; your skin is singing and one of your arms is developing a mild case of Paresthesia.

“Aw, lookit his hair. All that product for nothing.”

You mean to tell Bro to shut up, but if it makes it beyond the surface, it’s only a small, faded squeak of a sound.

“I guess that’s what you might call a blowout.”

You hate them, together, except for when you love them, together. Dave is insufferable on his good days – admirably so – but combined with this inexplicable third-party Strider, it is as if a chemical reaction has taken place and the beaker is bubbling over.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a lovely shade of pink. Should package that blush and sell it.”

“Could call it ‘Orgasm.’”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure some other douchebag has that market cornered.”

“NARS,” you croak. “NARS makes a blush called ‘Orgasm.’” There’s a stunned silence, and before either of them can tease you about it, you force air into your lungs and add, “There’s also a palette called ‘Foreplay.’”

Dave starts sucking on your neck and chest again, adding another mark to the growing collage of purple bruises. Your body has been made into a mosaic of black and blue on pale and an endless cosmos of freckles.

In the corner of your vision, you catch Bro losing his last scrap of clothing. “We are way past foreplay, kid,” he says, stroking himself.

Your thighs are starting to shake a little. Turning your head, you lick your lips. Bro sits back against the pillows and pats the space between his legs, inviting you to sate yourself the way you so obviously want to. Still, your fingers bunch in Dave’s hair, asking permission. He doesn’t seem to mind, removing himself from your body without complaint, even looking on in amusement as you crawl on hands and knees to Bro.

Bro, who doesn’t play coy or wait around; he’s more of the ‘better to beg forgiveness’ type. You’ve spent most of your relationship with Dave – sexual or otherwise – haphazardly navigating the choppy waters of his ironic passive-aggression, so having someone who will simply slip his cock into your mouth without first engaging in a roundabout scheme of innuendo and ambiguity is a relief. He doesn’t lend you much agency though, burying both hands in your hair, push-pulling you to his liking. And that’s okay; he’d stop if you asked him, knows what that would look like.

An alarmed, delighted noise forces itself from your throat when Dave bites the inside of your thigh. His hands drift along your legs, nails raking gently against skin while he sucks another mark onto you. For all his manufactured apathy, Dave is an aggressive lover, and an all-encompassing one, too. He pinches your hips and smacks the backs of your legs and bites you on the ass just to listen to your mangled groan.

Bro removes himself from your mouth, squeezes your chin in his big hand and forcibly turns your head, makes you look in the enormous mirror so you can see how disheveled your hair is, see how red – how swollen – your lips are. He chuckles and teases you about the flush in your cheeks, along your chest.

“I bet even your ass is pink,” he comments.

You see Dave’s arm rise from behind you, giving a thumbs up.

“I  _hate_  you,” you grumble into the sheets; they smell like Dave’s cologne and Bro’s sweat and your humiliation.

“Prove it.”

This time, when you go down on him, you use your teeth.

Bro pulls you back by the hair, hissing, and your eyes water from the pain. He holds you steadfast but strokes your cheek almost lovingly with his knuckles. “That wasn’t very nice,” he tells you. “Kiss it better.”

And you do. You take him in your hand and kiss him while he reclines in the pillows, watching, smug. It isn’t long, though, before he pushes you down again. Not that you mind. You close your eyes and enjoy the ease of being directed.

Warm, thin liquid is being poured over your skin. Dave rubs it into your ass, keeps going until he’s massaging your balls, teasing your dick. It isn’t fair – it just isn’t fair – that literally between the two of them, you are helpless to speed up or slow down. You could stop, though; you could always stop.

Dave teases you open, alternating between fingers and tongue. You can feel him grin while you moan around Bro, being pushed into Dave’s mouth, pulled onto Bro’s cock. You’re a mess and you will be mocked about this tomorrow but it’s mostly worth it.

“Fuck him hard, he likes that,” Bro’s voice rumbles over your head. You bury your face against his leg and whine, embarrassed.

Dave buries himself in you, folds himself over your back. Bracing himself so that his fingers overlap yours on the bed, jerking his hips into you impossibly, panting in your ear, he asks, “Like this?” His voice is stretched thin, competing with the obscene smack of his skin against yours.

“I said hard, not fast.”

You protest, loudly.

“I don’t know, he seems to like it.” Dave ruts harder against you, and you aren’t fooled by his cavalier bullshit, he’s enjoying this as much as you are. His breath is hot against your neck, and the way he touches you, no longer lingering teases but grabbing you, handfuls of you – hips and thighs and belly and cock, whatever he can reach…Dave  _wants_  you and he can’t hide it. Not behind clever words and not behind a pair of shades. He is inescapably yours.

Dave and Bro have gotten to their knees, now, bracketing you between them. Before it was push-pull but now it’s more like push-push, and much like halfway through a good meal, you’re starting to feel full. Bro is losing his patience, and you don’t know that you can take him all the way from this angle but you’re trying not to panic. Meanwhile, you can feel Dave losing all restraint, his manicured nails scraping against your hips, putting notches into your skin where he holds you still for his convenience.

Bro picks up the pace and you can hear his impending orgasm, exposed by a trickle of unintelligible grunts. But then you hear something else, over the slap of skin and muffled cursing. It’s a wet, sloppy noise, punctuated with pleased moans and other assorted happy, peculiar noises.  _They’re kissing_. God, you wish you could see it: Bro sucking on Dave’s bottom lip, Dave smiling as he crushes their faces together, narrowly avoiding a collision of teeth; tongues passing between the two of them.

The moment Bro pulls his cock out of your mouth, you turn and glance in the mirror. Bro and Dave look frozen in their kiss, suspended in front of one another, sharing breath while Bro jerks himself, Dave still fucking you almost punishingly. Enraptured as you are, Bro’s cum as it spatters across your cheek takes you by pleasant surprise. You crane your neck so that you can look up at him and open your mouth. He growls, low in his throat, and grabs you by the hair, holds you while you smile through the whole ordeal. You slide him back into your mouth, gently sucking him until he pushes you away – not meanly, but as if to say, ‘ _That’s enough_.’

Dave plants a hand on your back, pushes you down until your face is in the sheets. In the mirror, you watch his head fall back on his shoulders, watch his lips part for breath, watch the deep, red flush that has overtaken his sweat-soaked skin.

“Dave,  _please_ …” You push back on him, hoping he’ll take the hint and angle down, but too late. You’re simply along for the ride when he clamps his fingers around your sides, forces you still while he slams against you, probably swearing loudly enough to rattle the windows. He doesn’t stop immediately, still pushing into you, intermittent, erratic.

Again, you find yourself on your back, desperate now. You want to get off so badly that you don’t wait for either of them. You grab your dick and start tugging, more pragmatism than pleasure. Neither of them stops you, although Dave does manage to find coherency to slick you up, make it easier for you. Bro sidles up beside you, rests his face in the crook of your neck and slips his middle finger inside you.

“Dirk, baby, you were so good,” he kisses your neck, saliva cooling over hot skin. “So, so good. Maybe next time,” he presses his finger so, very close – “I’ll eat you out while Dave sucks your dick. Would you like that?”

You think you’re nodding, frantically, but you could be imagining that.

“Want my tongue in your ass while you fuck Dave’s pretty face?”

“ _Fuck_.”

Bro’s hand meets yours, guiding you faster over your cock while he murmurs sweet encouragements and fucks you with his finger and your orgasm happens almost like a delayed reaction, suspended in its beginning, like swaying in the wind after you’ve already stepped off the cliff. But then it catches up with you and you’re spilling over Bro’s hand – your own hand, too – onto you stomach in short, hard spurts. You moan and whine through it while Bro tells you how good you are, how cute you look.

Your stomach kind of hurts and you feel like fainting when it’s over.

But Dave and Bro are at your sides, kissing your hair and your cheeks and your nose and your mouth. Whispering to each other about you, nuzzling your ears and neck. Dave throws an arm over your chest to hold Bro’s hand; Bro curls one of his legs over yours, nudging his foot against Dave’s.

You yawn, loudly, and settle between them, swiftly drifting into sleep, coddled in the warmth of your brothers, their slow breaths your oxygen, their sleepy murmurs your lullaby.


End file.
